


Tangled Threads

by JumanjiiCostco



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Gen, Other, Post-Vecna Arc (Critical Role), percy and vex are good parents, vax may be dead but that doesn't mean he's done
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-10
Updated: 2019-02-03
Packaged: 2019-10-07 15:45:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17368766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JumanjiiCostco/pseuds/JumanjiiCostco
Summary: Percy and Vex have six wonderful, rambunctious, diverse children. This is one of many of their stories.Juniper de Rolo falls to a mysterious illness at six years old, and the rest of her family scrambles to find some kind of saving grace.





	1. Keep the Calm

**Author's Note:**

> This work centers around Juniper's story of walking the line between life and death. There will be stories for the other children to come!

Freddie and Johanna de Rolo sleep with their backs together until they’re nine years old. Any and all efforts on behalf of their parents to separate them go unnoticed and frankly, are half-hearted. They don’t register the pain in their mother’s eyes. The rest of the de Rolo children learn to pick a side, and slumber parties end in dog piles. 

When Freddie stops taking up the other half of the bed, the cat takes over. It’s how Johanna prefers it, honestly; she never really takes up much physical space if she can avoid it. And Tiger Lily, for all of her square foot or less of physicality, takes up as much space as she can possibly muster. The two sleep quite soundly together.

When Johanna stops taking up the other half of Freddie’s bed, he learns to lay in the middle. It’s not quite the same, and it’s certainly less preferable, but she’s across the hall anyhow and he can do this. He thinks he can do this. And eventually, the night terrors subside, and he does, in fact, manage a full night’s sleep on his own. 

The twins go five years without sharing a bed, and then Juniper falls ill. No one is really sure how it starts, and the chaos that follows is all-consuming. Oliver is a mess, their parents are beside themselves, and it’s up to Johanna and Freddie to keep the rest of the siblings together and safe. 

It’s not as hard as one might expect; they’re all shell-shocked. Gil hardly speaks the first day, leaning against the wall near the door, keeping an eye out. Oliver refuses to leave her side, and it’s still his room, too, so he gets the spot next to her as long as there isn’t a cleric that takes up more space. Elaina is the hardest to control, but even she stays quiet, sitting in their mother’s lap or in Freddie’s, playing with her toys in the corner near Gil. 

They don’t write to Pike until the third day. It’s on the twins’ insistence, a few hours later, that they include Keyleth and Gilmore. The following day, Zahra and Kashaw. Then Allura and Kima. And so on and so forth until Whitestone Castle is bubbling to the brim with people, all walks of life, hoping for the life of a small girl. 

As the company grows, they all find someone to stick to. Freddie, to Keyleth, which surprises no one. Gil, to Scanlan, and together they keep smiles afoot. Oliver refuses to leave June’s side, and by default finds solace in the clerics. Zahra and Kashaw’s daughters keep an eye on him when the adults can’t. Elaina and the young Shorthalts end up with Grog, playing games of tag and pointing out the ravens that fly by. 

Johanna keeps to her mother and father, a shadow of their silent fear. And it takes days, a full six of them, for there to even be talk of the gods. Her parents aren’t particularly _religious_  people, after all, and their experiences with gods have always been complicated. (Johanna thinks of her mother crying. Thinks of the stillness that finds her when the ravens stop by. Thinks of the sad smile that pulls at the corners of her mouth like curling ribbon. Complicated, indeed.) 

By day eight, they’ve run out of other options. Gilmore and Allura are both at a loss, Pike and Kashaw are both uncertain, even Scanlan’s smile is beginning to fade. And every day, June’s skin turns a little colder, like a river freezing overnight. That night, Freddie finds their mother praying, an open-ended cry to the gods, and it brings a stillness to him that he cannot explain. This is the first night that he and Johanna sleep back to back again. 

On day nine, things change again.


	2. Overboard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day nine begins with secrets.

Day nine begins with secrets. The de Rolo children wake to an all too quiet castle and find Vox Machina and company at the breakfast table, conversation cut short as they enter. The children--minus Oliver, who still hasn’t left Juniper alone--exchange a glance before their parents speak up. 

“Morning.” Vex gives a tired smile, fingers tight around her fork, knuckles visible in the tension.   


Johanna just raises her brows in response, looking around the room. Of them all, Grog seems generally unperturbed, though her father seems most agitated. He’ll barely meet her gaze. “What happened?” There is no room in her tone for ignorance or lies, and Freddie stills beside her. Gil, by contrast, steps up to flank her. 

All eyes are on them now, except Percy’s. This very particular silence is chafing, hugging close like a second skin, like a death shroud. The children fidget, though only slightly, under the scrutiny. Pointedly, Gil prods. 

“Dad?”   


Only then does Percy look up. Only then do the children see the war tearing at his heart. The bags under his eyes are dark and heavy and his hands, usually so steady, shake as they press together. “There’s been a development.” 

The chafing silence grows tighter, presses in uncomfortably close, until the kids instinctively step together. Elaina, only four years old, grabs onto Freddie’s leg and holds tight. It’s then that he finds his words. “Tell us.” All the adults in the room look to the de Rolo parents, even Grog’s gaze dragged with them, and now his brows are furrowed. Johanna forgets how to breathe as the silence stretches on for what feels like an eternity. 

“Divine intervention.” It’s Pike who finally speaks, leaning slightly over the table and giving Percy a kind smile. “A god has volunteered to save your sister.”   


It’s strange, the seconds the follow: the range of emotion is deafening. Vex and Percy exchange a look of utter dread that goes unnoticed. Gil looks up at Johanna, shock written sharp across his features. Freddie and Johanna exchange a quick glance, both remembering how to breathe, how to see one another for what they are, if only for just a moment.  _This is salvation_ , she says.  _This is unexpected_ , he replies. But reality drops on them like a dragon from the skies. The twins look at each other again. 

It’s Gil who asks, though. “Who?” 

They expect Sarenrae or Pelor, Buhammat or Ioun. Perhaps even Kord. None of those names are spoken; in fact, no name is spoken at all. Instead, six birds of jet-black feather cry from the windowsill. The whole room turns to look, silent aside from their cries. 

Gil can feel the erratic beat of his heart against his ribcage, the pounding blood in his ears as a whisper dances through his head. 

_The Raven Queen._

“Oh.” He wants to tear the silence apart. Tell his parents to try again, to pray  _again._ There’s bound to be someone else, someone who won’t take her away. Someone who can actually save her. But the words catch in his throat and the quiet leans in harder and it’s all too much. 

Johanna, pale but steady as ever, breaks the silence for him. “The alternative is death.” 

The children’s father flinches back from the word, recoiling from a burn, an acid splash. Their mother’s jaw tightens, but she stays calm. “We don’t know that for sure. There could be a breakthrough--”

“The alternative,” Johanna says again as her hands search for Freddie and Gil’s, find purchase, latch on for dear life. Feeling her shake is the scariest thing Gil can think of. More terrifying, even, than the Raven Queen. “Is death.”   


The silence is as long as it is heavy, a stalemate of epic proportions, as Vex’ahlia and Johanna de Rolo stare one another down. Mirror images of one another, both too proud to fold. Flip sides of the same coin. Another raven cries in the window, sweeping down on a breeze and landing on the table. Gil swears he hears whispers under its wings, a vaguely familiar voice echoing from underneath. 

Everyone stays where they are, the focus of the evening transferred almost immediately to the intrusion. Slowly, agonizingly slowly, Vex extends her hand. And without hesitation, the Raven finds purchase on it, tilts its head back to show the vulnerable line of its neck. Never once does it break eye contact. 

This time her voice shakes as her free hand reaches up to stroke the top of the bird’s head. “Go on and tell her, then. The price is paid.” 

With one last lingering nudge of beak to hand, the raven takes off and out the window, followed by the rest perched on the sill. It’s only when they’re all gone that the children move forward, an unending wave of adoration and silent understanding, encompassing their mother. 


	3. As I Fall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Juniper de Rolo is dying.

The darkness is cold, and for a while, it settles deep in her gut and takes hold. It’s a weight, dragging her down, down, down deeper into the shadows until she can’t breathe. Until she can’t see. Until there is only flat, open nothing. She thrashes and screams against the absolute void, wears herself out, pushes just a little farther. But the calmness takes her slowly, with conviction and patience, and by the time he arrives, June has found a sort of acceptance. 

Vax’ildan has grown used to the shadow. It was his ally in life and is his home in death and even the Raven Queen can’t beat the quiet in his step. But Juniper--she’s a child. She’s still afraid of it all, and he can see it in her face, even in the resignation. Something in him shudders, a ruffle of feathers, an erratic heartbeat. “Are you alright?” 

“You look like my mum.” There’s a mild panic in her eyes and her voice quivers, dances around the empty space like it’s feeling for a wall. Walls don’t exist here. She’s afraid, she’s defiant, she’s curious. Juniper Vesper de Rolo looks so much like her parents that it almost stops Vax’s heart again. 

His smile is equal parts sad and adoring. “Do you know why that is?” 

June thinks for a moment, squinting a little in the dark, lips tugged to one side in a puzzled expression. There’s a distant memory--distant because here, in the pitch black nothingness, all memories are--of her mother in the forest, quiet as a shadow, frozen in place as a bird lands on a nearby branch. “Am I dead?” 

The sadness takes over his smile. “No. Not quite.” His stomach churns, roiling with frustration and bitterness and concern. She’s still a  _child._ She’s still  _afraid_. 

“But you are. You’re Vax’ildan. You’re a raven.” She’s open now that the pieces have fallen into place. There’s still fear--of course there’s still fear--but in the midst of it, there’s comfort. This is not a stranger. This is family. 

There’s a thousand things Vax could say to that, but for the life of him, he can’t think of anything that would make sense to a six year old. Still, a chuckle escapes him and he lowers himself, not the least bit gracefully, to her height. “Do you want to see everyone?” 

Her eyes widen, face splitting in a glittering grin. The nodding that follows is so emphatic it almost knocks her over. But she keeps herself standing and, unbidden, reaches up a small hand to fit into his. He doesn’t mean to; he really, really doesn’t, but Vax’ildan holds his niece’s hand like a lifeline. 

The walk through the dark is long and quiet. The shadows are shapeless, endless around them, a vast sea of emptiness, all-encompassing. Except for them. The darkness will not swallow them--her, because the beating of her heart remains, and him, because he has tamed it. They come to a door, tall and grand and made of iron. Cold and intimidating. They’re both small beside it. 

“You’re a raven.” When June speaks again, it’s on the other side of the door, as they find themselves in a small room with stone walls and a long wall on the opposite end. Panes of glass line it like soldiers marching, faint images flickering inconsistently across them. “And a man?” 

Her uncle’s smile is patient as he guides her into the room, walks her to a row of chairs in the middle. “I’m dead.” 

“But I’m not?”   


“But you’re not.”   


For a moment, she’s quiet again, looking at the room, at him, processing the immediate surroundings. Then, softly, “Where are we?” 

Vax hums, settles in the nearest chair. It’s a loaded question--or at the very least, a loaded answer. And she’s six. She’s only  _six_. The glass farthest to the left flashes with blue feather and white shocks of hair. His heart rate, if he has one, kicks up a few notches. He must be taking too long to answer, because she climbs up into the chair next to him and leans over the arm, poking him sharply. Repeats her question. 

“This is... my home.”  


“It’s cold.” Soft, careful words. But insistent, still. Factual.   


“I’m dead.” Again. Maybe if he says it enough times, it’ll feel real.   


“So you don’t feel it?”   


“I don’t feel much of anything.”   


A sharp jab into his ribcage follows. When he winces, she laughs. 

“Juniper?”   


“Yeah?”   


“Are you afraid?”   


She cocks her head, brows furrowing. Maybe she hadn’t considered it before. Maybe he just put in her mind that she should be. Gods above, he’s a terrible uncle. She shrugs. “You wouldn’t let anything hurt me, right?” 

Not for the first time since he died or even the first time today, Vax’ildan’s heart sinks. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on tumblr and twitter @jumanjiicostco for more CR-related hijinx!


	4. Underneath the Undertow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oliver may be six, but he isn't stupid. Something's happening.

##  Chapter 4: Underneath the Undertow

Oliver knows things aren’t going well. The Vesh twins have been the only ones in his and June’s room for hours. There’s been no sign of his parents since dawn. No sign of Freddie or Johanna since they went to bed. 

* * *

 

People disappearing is never good. Look at June... she’d been gone for a few hours before anyone noticed her absence. 

Guilt is a deadly, sickening thing. 

Zelina appears in the doorway again, a tray with three plates in her hands, and offers a smile. It’s a secret thing, something the twins are collectively sharing with him. One of a few small tokens they’ve lent to him over the course of his misery. “Hungry?” 

He shrugs, turns from her and back to June. She’s getting paler by the hour, and the longer he watches, the more nauseated he gets. But if he walks away, he actually  _will_ throw up and then the twins will tell his parents and then... No. When Zelina sets the plate in his lap, he moves it to the floor.   


“You need to eat  _something_ , darling.” Adara eyes him from over June, lips thin with concern. They’re not hard to read, these twins, and Oliver doesn’t understand why everyone else seems to think so. June would get it. June would look at them and understand in a heartbeat, same as she understands him. But instead, she lays ashen and asleep on her bed. Instead, she fights against the ever-growing shroud of death wrapped around her. Instead, Oliver is alone. 

The tears come as a surprise. He’s not even aware of their existence until Adara appears at his side, wraps an arm around his shoulder, leans her head to rest against his. He reaches up to touch his cheeks and his fingertips come back damp. Zelina steps into view, as well, finds a spot on the floor and just rests near his feet, back to the bed. 

There’s a stretch of quiet and then... “She’s still there, Oliver. I can feel her.” 

His chest tightens and he wipes at his cheeks fiercely. “She won’t go anywhere I can’t follow.” The twins give a unanimous hum of agreement; Adara’s fingers bite a little tighter into Oliver’s muscle. 

They exist like that, quiet together, for a long while before they’re interrupted. First comes Freddie, carrying Elaina, then Gil, then Johanna, then their parents. Pike stands behind them in the doorway, lip tugged between her teeth in worry. The sound of feet isn’t far behind her, and Oliver can only assume the rest of the visitors are waiting. 

But waiting for what? 

“Thank you.” This is directed at Adara and Zelina, both of whom catch Vex’s eye and look for a moment, then nod. Zelina kisses his forehead before she leaves, Adara gives his shoulder another squeeze. They exit to the hall. “Oliver, darling, are you...” 

Only his parents step closer, both looking tired, both looking afraid. His heart sinks to the pit of his stomach. She’s not doing well. “What’s happening?” Behind them, all of Oliver’s siblings fold in together, Freddie holding Elaina and Johanna standing beside him with her hands on Gil’s shoulders. They all look worried, too. 

Percy says nothing, just steps forward towards his son and wraps him up in an embrace so tight that Oliver forgets how to breathe for a moment. Then he shifts, wraps his arms around his father and latches on like a lifeline. The tears surprise him again, but this time they’re hidden in his father’s collar. Vex leans in, too, presses a kiss to the top of Oliver’s head, stays a solid warmth against his back. “She’s going to come back, darling. I promise you.” 

He believes her. He believes her because he has to, because he has never been alive without her. Because the idea of it is so alien and disconcerting that he can’t  _fathom_ that life. He needs her in his life. 

The shaking comes to a stop and his tears find an end, and this is where things get difficult. This is where his parents tell him of the Raven Queen. This is where he realizes why his brothers and sisters look so concerned. This is when the birds begin to flock to the window. 

There’s a lot of discussion. Oliver doesn’t hear most of it, just watches the birds in the window and his sister on the bed and wonders if she’ll have a new affinity for feathers. “Just do it,” is all he ever says. Because having her here and alive is worth whatever comes after. 

Vex’ahlia begins to pray. 


	5. Head Above Water

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The cost has been set. The price has been paid. Now everything else falls into place.

He leads her to the panes of glass and through them like something out of a fairy tale. They step out into her room--well, her and Oliver’s room--to find everyone there. They’re all bright and shining and  _vibrant_ , and it’s only now that Juniper realizes how little color was in Vax’s office. 

(He finds home in the shadows. He lives in shades of grey. There is so little color left for him in her domain that he takes what he can get.) 

She looks at the room: her father, with his hand on Oliver’s shoulder, her mother on her knees at the side of the bed, Johanna and Freddie and Gil and Elaina watching silently. She looks at Vax, whose gaze doesn’t leave the bed until she clears her throat. 

Pointedly, “You said I wasn’t dead.” 

“You’re not.”   


Juniper lets go of his hand, moves past him to look at the body in the bed her mother prays over. It’s like looking in a mirror, but colder. Her cheeks have lost all color, her hair is braided back perfectly, and though her chest rises and falls, just barely, with breath... she looks dead. Her throat closes up involuntarily. Her hands are overtaken with a tremor. She sets her jaw and turns to look at him. Defiant. “You didn’t tell me I was  _dying_.” 

He smiles again and it’s sad again and he’s pointedly not looking at the disheveled form of her mother, on the floor with tears on her cheeks. Again. (This can’t be the first time. Even Juniper knows that.) “You’re not going to die.” 

“When do I go back?”   


It’s not just his sister he isn’t looking at. Vax’ildan, Champion of the Raven Queen, Slayer of Vecna, man of valor and courage, won’t look at any of them. His jaw is tense, his eyes deep and blue and pained. “Soon. The price has been set.” 

She looks again at her pale body. Again at Vax. At her mother, her brothers, her sisters, her father. At Pike, standing in the doorway, a few more familiar faces peaking in from the door frame. “Will it hurt?” 

“Yes.”   


“Will I see you again?” 

He pauses, jaw tightening again. If he was still before, he’s statue-esque now, a shell of a man. For a moment, he isn’t there. “I hope so.” 

She knows, somewhere deep in her, that she may never get this opportunity again. She’s lucky--objectively speaking--to have gotten it at all. She’s lucky to have spoken to him, to have spent time with him. This uncle of hers, dead before she was even a thought. 

Juniper steps forward and looks at him, taking him in for a moment. If this is the last time she’ll see him, she wants to remember him as he is. In case someone asks. In case she needs something to hold onto. Her heart hurts. “I’m going to hug you now.” 

Vax’ildan chokes back a curse, drops down into a crouch to wrap his arms around his niece. His armor smells horrendous and June is already crying and she’s pretty sure he is, too. Time is strange, then, flickering in and out of relevance, allowing them some sort of closure, free of hurry or desperation. 

He carries her, in this weird and flexible time-space, towards her unconscious body. Her heartbeat is so loud she can barely hear him over it. “You’re going home now, Juniper.”

She is drowning. The darkness pushes in from all sides, weighs her down, tosses her around. This is a thrashing sea, and the current won’t ever let her go. She is screaming. She is praying. She is terrified. Lungs burn. Ribs ache. Body screams. 

_Breathe, my child._

One panicked, staggering breath. 

For the first time in over two weeks, Juniper de Rolo’s body stirs. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me for more Critical Role shenanigans @JumanjiiCostco on tumblr and twitter!


End file.
